Race Against Time

  "Guess why," George said jokingly. Then she confided to Ned and Nancy in an audible whisper, "A handsome sculptor's showing his work at that gallery. Bess saw his picture in the paper, so now she's trying every way she can think of to meet him!"

  "That's not so, George! I really admire his work!" Bess declared, pink-faced with embarrassment. "Just because he's good-looking doesn't mean he can't be talented!"

  "No, but it certainly helps to attract buyers," George retorted with a mischievous gleam in her eye.

  "I suspect most artists do need encouragement before they become well-known," Nancy said. "I'll go with you, Bess."

  "Thanks, Nancy," the girl said gratefully. "I'm sure you'll like this sculptor's ceramic figures as much as I do."

  Ned seemed noticeably cheerful to Nancy by the time they said good-bye to Bess and George, but she was not prepared for what followed.

  Ullman Realty was located only two blocks from the restaurant. As the two young people walked into the firm's storefront office, a woman receptionist frowned severely at them from behind her desk. The door to Mr. Ullman's private office was wide open. The realtor's face darkened with fury as he saw them. He sprang to his feet and burst from his office, shaking his fist at Ned.

  "Get out of here this instant, you pyromaniac!"

  6. A Crucial Test

  Ned stood his ground and said politely, "Wont you at least give me a chance to—"

  "A chance to what? Start another fire?" Ullman interrupted. "You and those other college kids have cost me enough already! The first day you're there, the stable burns down. A couple more days of your film shooting and I might not have any buildings left!"

  "But we didn't start that fire."

  The realtor gave an angry snort. "Huh! That's what you say!"

  "Its true," Nancy said quietly but firmly. "Mr. Ullman, you have no basis for blaming what happened on Ned's film club."

  "What do you mean?" The real-estate dealer, stocky and bald except for a fringe of graying black hair above his ears, turned to glare at the attractive teenager. "Wait a minute, aren't you Carson Drews daughter Nancy? The amateur detective?"

  "That's right." Nancy smiled back, relieved to see the realtor's irate expression relax a bit. "Mr. Ullman, Ned and I went to the dance at Westmoor University on Saturday night."

  "I fail to see what that has to do with the fire."

  "We passed the woods, both coming and going," Nancy told him. "On our way to the dance, there was no sign of any blaze. It wasn't until we were returning, sometime after eleven o'clock, that we glimpsed a red glow through the trees. And that was hours after the film club had left the mansion."

  The realtor hesitated and frowned. "How do I know they didn't leave something smoldering?"

  "But none of us smoke, sir," Ned cut in. "And we had no reason to light any matches."

  "What time did you all leave?" Nancy asked Ned.

  "A few minutes past five. I know because I went out last and locked up," he declared. "We were going to the dance so we had to get ready. We couldn't hang around."

  Nancy turned back to the realtor. "Even if someone had dropped a lighted match near the stable, it certainly wouldn't have taken six hours for the building to catch fire! Whoever's responsible must have come around long after it got dark. That fact alone eliminates the members of the film club. I saw them at the dance myself."

  "Well, I suppose if you can prove that . . ." Mr. Ullman's voice trailed off grudgingly. His manner no longer seemed so accusing.

  Hoping to change his attitude even further, Nancy continued persuasively. "If you could just see your way clear to let us go on using the mansion, wed not only do more cleaning up, we might even do some repair work. What do you think, Ned?"

  "We certainly could," Ned agreed. "There are lots of loose boards that need nailing up, and wed each be glad to throw in a full day of painting if the materials were supplied to us."

  "Well, that seems fair enough," Ullman conceded, pursing his lips.

  "Another thing," Nancy went on. "The name 'Ullman Realty Company' will appear among the credits at the end of the film. Isn't that so, Ned?"

  "Of course! We were planning to do that automatically. It would give the firm some free advertising and also let the audience know who owns the Grimsby Mansion in case anyone seeing the film becomes interested in buying it."

  It was obvious from the expression on his face that the realtor found this thought very appealing. "Very well. You may continue to use the mansion," he decided. "Provided you are very careful!"

  The two young people happily thanked him and when they were outside, Ned gave Nancy a hug. "You're marvelous!" he told her. "Now we can get going on our film first thing tomorrow. And well work like a house afire!" Seeing the corners of Nancys lips twitch, he added with a red-faced chuckle, "Oops, wrong expression!"

  Ned had an afternoon class at Westmoor so he dropped Nancy at her home, where she quickly ran upstairs to get out of her riding clothes.

  Feeling cooler in a simple yellow cotton dress, she called good-bye to Hannah Gruen and went out to her car. She was just about to slip behind the wheel when Bess Marvin came scampering up.

  "A few seconds later and I'd have missed you," the blond girl said breathlessly. "Are you off to somewhere important?"

  "I'm just on my way to interview someone about that stolen racehorse."

  Bess's eyes widened. "You mean you're already on the trail of the crooks who did it?"

  Nancy smiled. "Not exactly. The person I'm going to see is a stablehand named Alf Sanchez. He used to work at Rainbow Ranch, but he was fired for falling asleep on watch the night Shooting Star disappeared. Want to come along?"

  "Wild horses couldn't keep me away!" Bess giggled as she got into the car.

  They found Alf's house in a rundown section on the outskirts of River Heights. Some effort had been made to keep the place in repair, and Alf himself looked neat and cheerful even though he was evidently still out of work. He was smoking his pipe, rocking in a chair on the porch.

  At the first mention of Shooting Star, Alf sat up straight, all attention. Taking his pipe from his mouth, he said, "Miss Drew, I was drugged. I don't care what anybody says. I was set to watch those horses that night and I was wide awake until I drank that coffee. When I'm paid to do something, I do it. I've never fallen asleep on any job in my life!"

  Nancy said, "Mr. Sanchez, you know there was no trace of any drug found in the left-over coffee in the thermos, don't you?"

  "Yes, at least that's what the police say, and that's why Kurt Ellum fired me. But then he always was a mean, suspicious sort. He'd have blamed me no matter what the report was from the police lab!" The former stablehand settled back in his chair again with a stubborn look on his face. Between puffs on his pipe, he added bitterly, "I worked at Rainbow Ranch a long time before Ellum ever came there."

  "Well, if you think you were drugged, how do you think it happened?" Nancy leaned against the porch railing.

  "I've been trying to figure that out, young lady, and it beats me." Sanchez frowned and shrugged his shoulders helplessly as he rocked back and forth. "I'll tell you one thing, though. That Shooting Star would have given whoever took him a lot of trouble! He's what you might call a horse with a mind of his own!" Sanchez laughed.

  "Were you able to manage him, Mr. Sanchez?" Bess asked from the porch steps where she was sitting.

  "Of course I could. Tve been around horses all my life. There aren't any I can't handle. But don't go thinking that means I helped some dirty crook steal Shooting Star. I'd no more do a thing like that than I'd have let anyone hurt him!"

  The former stablehand sounded so sincere that both girls were instinctively inclined to believe him.

  "Mr. Sanchez, if you're telling the truth, perhaps

  I can help clear you," Nancy said after a thoughtful pause.

  The elderly man's face brightened hopefully. "Miss Drew," he said, "from all I've heard and read about you, you're a mighty smar
t girl. If you can figure out how to prove I'm innocent, 111 sure be grateful! Nobody will hire me again with this hanging over my head, and I'm just going crazy sitting here day after day. I loved my job because I love horses, and Ive never done an injury to any horse or any man in my life!"

  Nancy promised to do her best to find some evidence that would clear the former stablehand of suspicion. As the two girls drove away, Bess said anxiously, "Do you really think you can convince the police he had nothing to do with Shooting Star's disappearance?"

  "I certainly intend to try," Nancy said in a determined voice. "Facts are facts, and if Mr. Sanchez is innocent, then the evidence should bear him out."

  To Bess's surprise, Nancy drove to police headquarters. In the building lobby, they were greeted by a young red-haired policeman standing behind a counter.

  "Hello there, girls. Why, it's Nancy Drew! Just a moment, let me ring Chief McGinnis. I imagine he's the person youVe come to see."

  "You're right. Thank you, Officer Worth." Nancy smiled.

  A few minutes later, they were ushered into the office of her old friend, Police Chief McGinnis. "If it isn't two of my favorite people," he said smilingly as he rose from behind his desk to greet them. "What can I do for you?"

  Nancy explained how the master of Rainbow Ranch had asked her to help in solving the mystery of his stolen racehorse. Then she added, "I was wondering if the thermos found next to Alf Sanchez that night is still in your lab?"

  "Probably," the police chief said. "Let me check. Why? Would you like to examine it?"

  "No, but I'd like your fingerprint expert to see if he can find any of Mr. Sanchez's prints on it."

  After calling the crime laboratory and speaking briefly on the phone, McGinnis promised Nancy a report within twenty-four hours.

  The Westmoor film club was to begin shooting their movie the following morning. Bess had expressed an eager interest in watching the filming so Nancy picked her up shortly before nine o'clock.

  The day had dawned gloomy and gray with a touch of fog, which forced the young driver to go slowly. Bess sat nervously peering through the windshield. She gave an explosive sigh of relief when Nancy stopped the car at the Grimsby Mansion.

  "Ooh, it really does look spooky today, doesn't it?" Bess murmured, gazing at the old gray house in the swirling fog as they got out. "I wonder how the Grimsbys could stand to live here in the woods with no neighbors or telephone or anything."

  "It does look brooding," Nancy agreed. "And it'll make a wonderful setting for the film. I wonder if Ned could get some outdoor shots in this weather just for atmosphere."

  Just then the front door of the mansion creaked open, and Sara White smiled and called them in. "Were getting ready. Come on, Nancy. I'll show you where your gown is and where you can change. I'm to help you with your makeup."

  The three girls trooped off upstairs.

  "Tell me, Nancy, what's the plot of the film?" Bess asked excitedly as her friend was changing.

  "Well, it takes place in old-fashioned times as you can tell from this gown. About the 1890s, I guess. And the heroine—yours truly," Nancy added with a smile, "has just moved into this mansion, which she inherited from her grandfather."

  "Only she doesn't know the basement's inhabited by a creepy, old vampire!" Sara put in as she helped Nancy hook up the back of her gown.

  Bess shivered deliciously. "Does he have designs on the heroine?"

  "Of course! He falls madly in love with her!" Sara responded, getting out the makeup kit.

  "Only he's terribly bashful," Nancy explained, "so he's afraid to come out in the open. He just keeps hovering in the background, scaring the wits out of everyone, including me!"

  "He finally gets up nerve enough to come closer one evening when she dozes off on the sofa," Sara went on. "But remember, this vampire's about 500 years old. Just as he opens his mouth to sink his fangs into her lovely white throat, his false teeth drop out!"

  All three girls burst into peals of laughter.

  "Next morning, the maid sweeps them up," Nancy concluded between fits of hysterical giggling. "And the film ends the following night with the old vampire desperately picking through the trash heap, trying to find his fangs before sunrise!"

  The scene that Ned and the group had decided to film that morning took place in the downstairs parlor where Nancy was entertaining an elderly doctor. He had come to warn her that spooky lights

  had been seen moving about inside the mansion late at night. During the conversation, Gwen, playing a maid, was to bring in a tray of refreshments.

  The actors went through a brief rehearsal under Neds direction. Then the lighting was carefully arranged and the shooting began. A girl named Jane Logan was operating the camera with Lenny Arthur acting as her assistant.

  The scene began splendidly. But as Nancy chatted with the doctor, she noticed that one of the lights seemed to be moving. Apparently, it had not been clamped in position tightly enough, and Lenny went hastily to fix it.

  The next moment, Nancy gasped and flung up her hand as the blinding spotlight shone right in her eyes!

  "Lenny!" blurted a boy named Jack Billings, who was acting as electrician. "You've ruined the take!"

  Gwen had just entered with the tray, on which were two glasses of fruit punch, and was approaching Nancy and the doctor as the lighting mishap occurred. In the resulting confusion, Gwen appeared to stumble and lose her balance, letting the glasses slip off the tray and spill the red liquid on Nancy's gown!

  7. Silver Surprise

  Bess, who was watching, cried out in dismay at the accident. But Nancy reacted quickly. She jumped to her feet and shook the liquid off the dress. "Give me some tissues, Bess!" she exclaimed.

  By hasty wiping, the damage was soon repaired. "This fabrics so heavy, I don't think there was time for the punch to soak in," Nancy reported. "Anyhow, the skirts too dark for any stain to show."

  Ned tried to control his temper, but the strain of the urgent shooting schedule and the thought of the expensive, spoiled film made it hard not to show some irritation. "That was a dumb trick, Lenny!" he chided.

  "Why blame me?" Lenny Arthur mumbled sullenly. "The light came loose, that's all. I tried to fix it, but it just happened to shine in her eyes for a second."

  "If you'd clamped the light properly in the first place, it wouldn't have come loose!" Jack Billings flared back.

  "Maybe the whole thing wasn't a dumb trick at all," Sara White said, staring coldly at Gwen Jethro. "I was watching you, Gwen. I think you tipped those glasses over on Nancy deliberately to ruin her gown!"

  "Oh, don't be absurd!" Gwen tossed her head scornfully. "If Nancy hadn't made such a fuss over the light, all this wouldn't have happened. Everyone started talking at once and distracted me, so I didn't see where I was going. I just stumbled and spilled the glasses accidentally."

  "Accidentally on purpose, you mean," Sara retorted in a dry voice laden with sarcasm.

  Nancy couldn't help but notice that Gwen's eyes betrayed a gleam of mean satisfaction as if she were secretly enjoying the way Nancy's first scene had been spoiled. Nevertheless, the girl was anxious to smooth over any trouble that might disrupt the making of Ned's film.

  "It really doesn't matter," Nancy interposed gently. "My dress wasn't ruined, so let's start all over."

  Unfortunately, Gwen and Lenny were already much too disliked for the incident to be easily forgotten.

  "This time, let's make sure all the lights are clamped good and tight before we start," said Jack with an exasperated glance at Lenny.

  Mike Jordan had sponged off the carpet and was refilling the two glasses with fruit punch.

  "Now, please watch where you're going, Gwen, so it won't happen again," Ned begged.

  "You said it," Jane Logan cut in curtly. "We're not shooting this on a Hollywood budget, Gwen dear. In case no one's told you, film costs money and we don't have all that much!"

  Her remark provoked an immediate retort from Gwen. Lenny
Arthur, who was smarting from Jack Billings's caustic comments, joined in the exchange. Angry words were soon flying back and forth again as tempers rose. Both Ned and Nancy did their best to calm things down, but the quarrel had grown too bitter to be resolved.

  In the end, Gwen and Lenny marched off together in a huff, slamming the front door of the mansion behind them.

  There was a moment's silence before Ned sighed and shrugged his shoulders with a wan smile. "Well, do we quit right here or go on with our cinematic masterpiece?" he queried and looked around at the other club members.

  "Of course well go on!" Sara White declared. "Who needs those two, anyway?"

  There was a chorus of agreement.

  "In that case," Ned suggested, "what about Bess Marvin taking Gwens role as the maid?"

  "Perfect!" Jack Billings exclaimed. Nancy had already noticed that he seemed to find her blond friend more than slightly attractive.

  "How about it, Bess?" Jane Logan asked with a twinkle.

  Pink-cheeked and thrilled at the unexpected invitation to act before a movie camera, Bess nervously accepted. Sara White, an expert seamstress, hastily let out Gwen's costume at the waist for Bess to try on. After a quick run-through, the scene was soon underway again, and to everyone's jubilation, the take was completed without a slip-up!

  By noon, two more short scenes had been successfully filmed, after which everyone lunched happily on hamburgers and milkshakes that Mike Jordan brought from the nearest drive-in.

  Ned and the other young men in the film club began to rearrange the furniture in the drawing room for the next scene. As Ned was pushing back a heavy armchair, a bright metal object caught his eye. It turned out to be a slender, silver bud vase.

  "Where'd that come from?" Jane asked in surprise.

  "Under the chair. It must have rolled there and been forgotten some time or other, I guess."

  "It feels heavy enough to be real silver, wouldn't you say, Nancy?"

  "Definitely. Here's the hallmark." Holding the vase upside down, Nancy pointed to the maker's imprint stamped on the bottom.